


A Heaven To Call Our Own

by orphan_account



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Dubious Consent, Felching, M/M, Rimming, Stockholm Syndrome, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-06-10 06:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6943687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally, Jack has his body back and he has no intentions of letting Rhys just walk out of his life. Rhys is going to be his, whether he likes it or not and he's going to break him in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't look at me and my sin. I might add another chapter to this if there's enough demand for more, I suppose we'll see.

How _long_ had this darkness lasted? Rhys wasn't sure. It felt like it was all he'd ever known for what seemed like years when in reality, it had only been just a month. Every sound and every smell within the room was stale to Rhys' numbing senses. The only time any kind of light greeted his eyes was when Handsome Jack would come strolling into his glorified prison to make sure he didn't die of starvation or dehydration.

The term of _'glorified prison'_ was really being too kind to the room. It held a bed and an empty dresser, a smaller room branching off to include a bathroom. The room wasn't necessarily _small_ , but it wasn't spacious either. All Rhys ever did was sleep and wait, sleep and wait, sleep and wait. Nothing but silence, nothing but the walls to occupy him. Not even the sounds from Jack's office above traveled down to give him company.

At first, Jack hadn't bothered to show up for at least _three_ days, leaving Rhys to try his hand at escaping the room. But there would be no such luck for the cybernetic man, it was sealed tight and built well. Rhys had to wonder if this room was made simply for holding people down here as prisoners. The more those days went by, the more Rhys was starting to think that's just exactly what this was. Jack was just _that_ kind of man.

The moment Jack showed up on that third day, Rhys wanted to kill him. Hell, he _tried_ to kill him. But it just ended with his face bloodied, beaten, and bruised on the floor and he was left there without another thought from Jack. Slowly, it was dawning upon the former middle manager that Jack wasn't going to just let him go.

“ _Gotta break ya in, sweetheart_ ,” Jack would just tut playfully when Rhys asked why he was even here.

And that was the most he'd ever really get. Maybe a variation here and there, but it always sounded so demeaning, so sickeningly sweet like he was speaking to a confused child in need of guidance. And as much as Rhys hated not getting the answers he wanted, he was starting to just find comfort in Jack's words, his tone, his _presence_.

A swallow went down roughly in Rhys' dry throat, his body reminding him once again that he was very, _very_ thirsty. His stomach hurt in wave after wave of hunger pangs, but somehow, it wasn't what he was looking forward to right then. He was waiting for Jack. _Handsome Jack._ The man he'd always looked up to as his hero and inspiration. He hated him just a couple weeks ago, but now...

 _Why did he ever hate him?_ He was the only person he got to see and interact with now. Would it always be that way? Rhys wasn't sure. But he had to take what he could get, even if his visits lasted mere minutes at a time. They came so rarely and left him desiring– no, **_needing_ ** more.

Gasping sharply, Rhys felt the smallest noise pierce his ears, the telltale movements beyond the reinforced door of his room signaling that Jack was finally coming to make his daily visit. Rhys had to resist the urge to move from the bed, but he couldn't stop the sudden flinch as light flooded the room.

The sound of the door swinging open was overridden by the intense pain in his right eye. He almost forgot about the lights and how painful they were every time Jack turned them on. Rhys leaned forward, burying his face into his hands, the metal of his right hand keeping him somewhat grounded.

“Rise and shine, Rhysie,” Jack intoned playfully, his voice suddenly beside the bed.

Almost immediately, Rhys was looking up at Jack, trying to blink back the bleariness to get a clearer look at his captor. His lips fell open to say something, yet nothing came but a huff of air.

The sensation of the older man's fingers grasping to Rhys' jaw made his skin tingle, his head being forced to tilt back slightly as Jack hummed, “Hmm, glad to see me, kiddo?”

Rhys felt his throat was still too dry to say anything, so he decided to just give a nod instead. He figured not only would Jack like to hear that, it held some truth as well. Whatever would keep Jack from leaving so quickly, whatever it took to keep the lights on, to feel someone else's touch, to just _interact_ , he'd agree to anything at this point.

“Good answer,” Jack said with a grin.

The sudden dropping of a bottled water and a pack of chips hit the bed beside Rhys, as was in the usual routine. Jack would always just drop off one bag of food. It tended to vary, but it was still food nonetheless. However, Rhys didn't immediately go for it, instead keeping his attention up at Jack.

“ _Huh_ ,” Jack huffed as he raised a pointed brow. “Not hungry or thirsty?”

A mere moment of silence passed before Jack was beginning to retract his hand from Rhys' jaw, but his movement was immediately halted as Rhys reached forward and grasped his wrist with his flesh hand. It seemed to take Jack off guard somewhat, but his gaze remained stoic.

“ _Wait_ ,” Rhys finally spoke, his voice hoarse and scratchy. His grip tightened ever so slightly. In truth, Rhys wasn't sure _what_ he wanted Jack to wait for in that moment. Maybe it was just the loss of contact that drove him to clutch onto the older man. He wasn't sure.

Silence stretched on agonizingly before Jack was asking, “...Wait _what?_ Ya missed me **that** bad?”

“Why?” Rhys found the word clawing against his dried throat, both his eyes flickering across Jack's masked features. “Why're you doing this?”

“ _Because_ , Rhysie,” Jack hummed in that sweet tone of his. “I gotta break you in.”

Without another word, the CEO was turning sharply, pulling his arm free from Rhys' grasp and striding out the door. Rhys watched on helplessly, knowing that the light would be gone any second now and he'd be left to himself once more. And as frightening as that was, he couldn't find it in himself to move.

As if the lights denied his prayers, they went out, leaving him to the same darkness as before. Somehow, it felt darker than usual. Much more lonely. All Rhys could do was eat, drink, piss, sleep, and wait for Jack to show up yet again.

***

Rhys had been sure to make this particular water bottle last, taking small sips throughout the course of the day. By his count, it had nearly been a full day since Jack had stopped by last. At least, he was _pretty_ sure. He'd gotten relatively good when it came to counting the time that passed. In fact, it was all he could do anymore.

Second after second, he kept track, and he was satisfied to hear the approach of Jack beyond the door. This time, Rhys stood suddenly, stumbling over to the door just as the lights came to life and Jack swung the door open. Rhys had to cling to the wall for support as the lights blinded him momentarily, his right eye closing tightly.

“Well then, _someone's_ excited to see good ol' Handsome Jack,” the CEO barked in a chuckle, a bottle of water and some kind of bag of food in his hands. “Get your ass back in the bed though, got a little surprise for ya today, pumpkin.”

Almost like an obedient dog, Rhys moved on wobbly legs back over to the bed before settling himself down onto it. It wasn't even on his mind to disobey what Jack told him to do. He was just far too tired at this point, far too worn down.

Looking up, Rhys watched as Jack placed the water and bag on top of the dresser opposite the bed, the older man turning a moment later to face Rhys. He looked down at him, some kind of glint in his eye, something of a plan that begged to come to life at his lips. It all amounted to a knowing grin that made Rhys shiver. Was it the surprise he mentioned?

“Pop quiz,” Jack started suddenly, placing his hands on his hips. “ _Why_ are you here, Rhys? Got an answer for that one?”

“To break me in,” Rhys answered dutifully but sullenly, watching Jack intently, hoping that his answer was right.

Jack pointed a finger gun at him, pulling the imaginary trigger as he said, “Bingo. Raise your left arm.”

Almost as though he was on autopilot, Rhys raised his left arm, keeping it in the air. Although he didn't really know _why_ he was doing this, he didn't really care. This is the longest Jack had stayed, the longest the lights had ever been on. If it kept those two things constant, then he would do whatever it took.

“Good,” Jack nodded with a growing smile. “Now your other arm, _up up_.”

Once more, Rhys responded accordingly, his mechanical arm raising as well. Rhys knew he probably looked ridiculous, but he didn't care. He just kept watching Jack, his eyes never flickering from him for a moment.

“Such a _good boy_ ,” Jack crowed sweetly, moving to step closer to the younger man. “Keep 'em up and **_don't_ ** move.”

Rhys swallowed hard as he watched Jack grow closer, his breathing increasing as he realized Jack was moving to touch him. The warm and tingling sensation of the older man's hands were roaming about Rhys' chest, pressing in gentle waves that left Rhys wanting more. The touches were blissful, his eyes fluttering closed as he reveled in the movements. It didn't occur to him at all what Jack was even doing, but yet again, he just didn't care.

The fingertips of Jack's digits traveled downward, slipping beneath his v-neck shirt and sliding back up, the feeling of skin on skin leaving Rhys feeling like he was on fire. Rhys arched his back as Jack's thumbs found his nipples, digging softly into the hardening flesh and roving about it in circles.

Before Rhys could stop it, a low moan was drifting out from his throat, causing a small bit of laughter to rumble Jack's chest.

“I'd say you like that quite a lot, _don't'cha?_ ” Jack hummed, his ministrations not letting up for a second.

Hot breath seeped past Rhys' parted lips as he nodded fervently, his left arm beginning to ache as it stayed within the air, but he tried to focus on the sensations Jack was giving him. It was such a _little_ thing, but it was so comforting, so wonderful, Rhys was grateful beyond words for the stimulation and just the company of Jack.

Taking a deep inhale, Jack suddenly stopped, much to Rhys' dismay, pulling his hands back to himself as he stepped away from the bed, “Got some business to attend to. Be seein' ya, Rhysie.”

Before Rhys could protest, Jack was moving back towards the door, opening it and closing it behind him, leaving Rhys a stunned and disappointed mess on the bed. Almost immediately, the lights went off once more, the darkness becoming a familiar friend.

Slowly, Rhys allowed his arms back to his sides, his breathing still heavy as it pulled past his parted lips. It was so _little_ stimulation, yet Rhys could feel his body reeling from the contact. He didn't think on the why anymore, because he knew the answer was to break him in. He just accepted that, for whatever it would mean. But he couldn't stop himself from looking forward to Jack's next visit and hoping it would be just like this one.

***

Jack's next visit, he brought _two_ bottles of water and a bigger bag of food. Neither he nor Rhys made a comment on it as he tossed them onto the floor. Neither did they comment on the blood that coated Jack's clothes and skin in damp stains.

“Get on your hands and knees, face the wall and **_don't_ ** make me wait, kitten,” Jack growled, a stark contrast to the usual voice he would use around Rhys. It was enough to make Rhys do as Jack said, perhaps even quicker than he usually would.

Rhys was scared but excited. He didn't know what was going to happen. How was he supposed to feel right now? He was sure that _scared_ was the right emotion but could the same be said for _excited?_ Somewhere in Rhys' mind, he realized how wrong that was, and a part of him became even more terrified for it. But the excitement just grew as he chanced a gaze behind himself to see Jack fumbling with his pants, some sort of small bottle in his other hand.

The next moment, Rhys could feel Jack tugging roughly at his pants, exposing his ass and making Rhys gasp sharply as he felt something slick and cool pressing into his sensitive hole. He yelped as it pressed deeper still, slicking in and out without hesitation. A moment later, it grew in size, making Rhys realize that it was Jack's fingers penetrating him.

“ _A-ah!_ ” Rhys cried out as Jack inserted another finger, delving all three deeply within before he was splitting his digits apart. He was being stretched more and more, the pain threatening to bring tears to his eyes as he sewed them shut. “ _J-Jack!!_ ”

“ _Scream_ , baby, c'mon, **_scream!_** ” Jack growled lowly as he pumped his fingers in and out in sharp thrusts, nearly making Rhys ram his head into the wall the bed was pushed up against

Using his mechanical hand, Rhys braced himself against the wall, crying out with each rough push. Rhys felt like it would never end and Jack was never going to stop. But he couldn't be any further from the truth.

“Tch, you're _already_ hard,” Jack chuckled darkly, his slick fingers now pulling out from Rhys and clasping tightly to his hips.

Without warning, Rhys was forced back off the bed, his feet clumsily trying to find the ground to keep his balance. With the help of Jack's hold, he finally did so, awkwardly bending over the bed and craning his neck to try and look back at the CEO. He only got a glimpse of the determined look on his masked features before a whole new world of pain greeted him.

Crying out, Rhys could feel the head of Jack's cock slipping into him roughly, the rest of his thick length following not a moment later in a sudden push. Stuttering gasps and cries escaped Rhys' drying throat as he was filled with Jack's entire length, the pain immense and causing tears to finally begin brimming in his eyes.

“ ** _God_** , your ass is so perfect and _tight!_ ” Jack laughed, not hesitating even a moment before he was pulling his hips away and slamming back into Rhys.

“ ** _Agh!!_** ” Rhys screamed, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and pressing his teeth down onto the flesh hard as Jack continued to pound into him, bottoming out each time.

Again, the fear from before returned in full force, his mind grasping that Jack was _very_ _much_ fucking him like his very life depended on it. Yet, once more, that excitement was present, even stronger than before and quickly replacing the fear as his pleasure grew. Years and years ago, he'd imagined _this_ kind of scenario, being dominated and fucked by Handsome Jack, but not like _this_. Not in some dark room he'd been stuck in for over a month.

But perhaps it was _better_ this way. He'd been so devoid of any kind of touch or pleasure that receiving this much was like a Godsend, like _heaven_. Not to mention, this is the longest Jack had stayed within the room, the longest he'd gotten to enjoy another person's presence in far too long.

The sudden and sharp tugging pain at the back of Rhys' head caused him to snap from his momentary reverie, his neck bending back as Jack pulled harshly at his hair. His grip tightened, yet another cry coming from Rhys' parted lips as the roots of his hair protested painfully.

“Guess what _I_ got to do today, pumpkin?” Jack hissed through clenched teeth, his grin growing as he continued to thrust deeply and hard into the younger man.

Even if Rhys _wanted_ to answer Jack, he couldn't, his lungs bursting over and over to find more air and low, long moans of pained pleasure ravaging his throat. Instead, he just tried to shake his head, his movements severely restricted with Jack's fingers dug deeply into his locks of auburn hair.

“Some shitheads thought they could _assassinate_ me,” came the CEO's husky whisper, hot breath ghosting over Rhys' ear as he gave one particularly hard thrust. “So I got to kill the shit out of them.”

At this point, Rhys wasn't sure he was picking up on anything Jack was saying anymore, the feeling of Jack's cock plundering into his aching hole over and over far overpowering anything else that could possibly be on his mind right then. One moment, Rhys was inhaling air deeply, the next, his windpipe was being obstructed, a large, bloody hand clasping around his throat and squeezing.

Instinctively, Rhys' flesh hand went up to the digits around his throat, trying to grab at them and pull them off. He could only feel small seeps of air flowing to his lungs at a time when he needed so much more. His head began to swim as he wasn't getting enough air, his attempts at removing Jack's hand growing weaker and weaker.

 _Holy shit_ , it hurt. And **_holy shit_** , he was going to die. He could feel his mind beginning to part itself from the pain, the pleasure, the entire situation of it all. This wasn't how he wanted to die. _This wasn't what he wanted._

Just as he was sure he was going to pass out, Jack's grip went slack, allowing Rhys to breathe once again. A sharp and deep intake of air burned his throat as he came down from the precipice of unconsciousness, coughing and groaning.

A low chuckle came from Jack's mouth as he slowed his thrusts, favoring much harder and more direct hits, “ _Man_ , I should've fucked you sooner.”

Almost immediately, Rhys was seeing stars with each of Jack's movements, realizing that Jack was hitting his prostate again and again, the pleasure immensely satisfying. Somehow, in Rhys' mind, it made the nearly being strangled to death experience worth it.

“ _Nnh, **Jack!!**_ ” Rhys cried, tears finally slipping past the corners of his eyes a staining his cheeks. “ _I-I'm..!!_ ”

“That's right, cum like the little _slut_ you are,” Jack laughed with heavy breaths, speeding up his thrusts and being sure to delve into him _just so_ to hit that particular spot each time. That was enough for Rhys, his eyes sewing shut as his unattended and aching cock twitched before releasing a steady stream of creamy liquid, covering the sheets of the bed in heavy lines as he moaned deeply.

Once more, Rhys could feel Jack's large fingers grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling hard, forcing him to straighten up slightly. It made the feeling of Jack's cock buried within him much more uncomfortable, but Jack didn't pause for even a moment as he continued shoving himself deeply into that slick orifice.

“You made such a mess, you must be _loving_ this, huh,” Jack growled into Rhys' ear, his hips slamming against Rhys faster and faster.

 _Did_ Rhys love this? He wasn't sure anymore. He was too far gone into the blissful pleasure of this moment, so perhaps... Perhaps that meant he did love this. Maybe he loved it a lot. And maybe he never wanted it to end. But the sound of a low groan from Jack's throat signaled the beginning of his captor's orgasm.

Jack huffed several deep breaths before he hissed, “Gonna fill you up **_real_ ** nice and good.”

And he did just that. Rhys could feel each spurt of Jack's seed emptying within him, his hot juices leaving Rhys in a state of bliss as Jack finally pulled out from him. The muscles in Rhys' legs ached and shook, his entire body crying out and begging for rest. It was all he wanted now, just to rest. Would it have been too much to ask for Jack to stay and rest with him, though? _Probably_.

With slight force, Rhys was moved back onto his knees on the bed by Jack's guiding hands, his heartbeat still erratic as he continued to try and catch his breath. He had no energy to put up any kind of fight as Jack pressed down onto his back, forcing Rhys' face down into the soiled mattress.

“ _Oohoho_ , Rhysie, if you could see what I see right now,” Jack mused playfully, his own breath starting to even out.

Rhys felt his body flinch slightly as Jack pressed a finger along the rim of Rhys' now gaping hole, encircling it before he brought it back to himself. “You're just _leaking_ with my cum, baby. What a mess.”

Slowly, Rhys opened his eyes to try and look between his legs, catching a glimpse at his inner thighs which had slowly dripping cum, no doubt Jack's. Not a beat passed before he was screwing his eyes shut once more, the feeling of something hot and swift moving within his sensitive ring of flesh. He let out a low moan as he realized a moment later it was Jack's tongue, delving deeply within his hole and exploring quite greedily.

The overstimulation was driving Rhys mad, his breaths quickening into short pants, a groan slipping past every so often. Distantly, Rhys was aware of Jack's dull fingernails digging into each cheek of his ass as he kept him spread apart, lapping at his hole in attentive swipes.

“Jack, _i-it's..!_ _It's too much_ ,” Rhys mewled, squirming as Jack continued his motions before halting and pulling back.

A low string of chuckles left Jack's lungs as he stepped back, readjusting his pants, “Sorry, couldn't resist. I'll let ya rest. You should _probably_ take a shower while you're at it, you've got blood and cum all over you.”

Rhys wasn't even sure if he _could_ move, he felt so tired and absolutely destroyed. His body ached in ways he didn't even think was possible. Yet somehow, throughout it all... He felt _immensely_ satisfied. Gone was the fear he felt earlier and it was just replaced with something akin to being content.

Slowly but surely, Rhys moved to sit on the bed, every muscle in his body shaking as he did so. He looked up at Jack with parted lips and hopeful eyes, “You're not leaving, are you?”

“I gotta,” Jack admitted as he pulled the zipper up along his pants, now moving to put his belt back into place. “Gonna be some fallout from killing those numb nuts, need to take care of it.”

Almost as if Rhys was on autopilot, he reached forward, grasping onto Jack's waistcoat, looking up at him with mismatched and pleading eyes, “Stay. Please.”

Slowly, a smile began to fill its way onto Jack's features as he reached forward to, brushing his fingers surprisingly delicately under Rhys' chin.

“I'll be back,” Jack assured the younger man with confidence and perhaps smugness. “Don't you worry about that.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's certainly been a while since I've written anything for this fic, but it got such a great reception that I decided I am gonna continue it! I believe it might have one or two more chapters in it, but that's not for sure atm.
> 
> I just wanna say that this fic is zero percent meant to be a good fic. It's very, very badwrong. There's unfortunately not much of a happy ending to be found here, just pure, pureeee sin. With that being said, please enjoy said sin.

Suddenly, the passing of time had no meaning. It was an empty space that held little to nothing for Rhys. It was just a filler. A void that had no purpose other than to separate Jack’s visits. Which only seemed to lengthen any time Rhys thought on it too much. It wasn’t _too_ unusual for Jack to come strolling into the dark room, covered in blood (sometimes it was even his _own_ blood) or sweat, and fuck him senselessly.

It became a routine that left Rhys falling into the comfort of it all, being able to know just what Jack’s visits would _usually_ entail. There had been a few times Rhys genuinely thought he was going to be killed because Jack looked so livid. The look in his eyes sometimes was enough to snap Rhys out of the mesmerizing situation, make him realize that he really was still being trapped here against his will. But it was easy to forget that when there were the quiet moments, the tender moments, the moments of little and soft touches that Jack allotted on his aching and bruised flesh.

Rhys had come to memorize Jack’s skin, even though he got to do very little touching of his own. He found his scent very familiar, very soothing, even when it was covered by the stinging iron of blood. It had crossed his mind a time or two to ask if he could leave this room, perhaps even for just a small amount of time. But every time he thought he was close to asking, something stopped him. Whether it was fear or indecision, he could never tell.

But _maybe_ he didn’t have to ask. Just as Jack finished fucking him that day, leaving him covered in cum, blood, and bruises, he had a smile that Rhys hadn’t recognized. And that was saying _a lot._ He’d come to learn that Jack smiled often. **_Very_ ** often. But it was much, much different this time. As if there was a plan and a story behind that smile now.

“Sit up, cupcake,” Jack demanded loosely, his white smile contrasting sharply to the specks of blood that laid on his face. “C’mon, _up, up._ ”

With shaking limbs, Rhys did as he was told, turning and settling onto the bed with an expectant look in his eyes as they studied Jack. For the first time that day, there came a soft and gentle caress of the older man’s fingers upon Rhys’ thin face, causing him to lean into the motion with unspoken gratefulness.

“I think you’re just about ready to go back up top.”

Mismatched and tired eyes were suddenly widening, their owners _absolutely_ certain that something hadn’t been heard right. **_Did_ ** Rhys hear that right? Was Jack playing games with him? Was he _actually_ going to leave this room?

Slowly, Rhys’ dry lips began to part, a soft breath pulling past them before he was speaking carefully, voice hoarse yet hopeful, “You’re.. Going to let me leave?”

That pulled a laugh out of Jack’s lungs, “This room? Yeah. _Me?_ Hell no.”

“Well _that’s_ \-- what I meant,” Rhys tried to clarify, a swallow going down his bruised throat roughly and painfully. He shook his head in small motions. “I don’t want to leave you.”

Once more, Jack’s toothy grin pulled his lips taut as he pat Rhys’ cheek several times, “ _That’s_ a good kiddo. You always know just what to say. Now c’mon, get your ass up and take a shower. I’ve got a meeting in about half an hour that I need to get to and you’re coming with.”

So Jack _wasn’t_ kidding, he was really going to let Rhys out of this room, even if it was just for some boring corporate meeting. There was no telling how long Rhys had actually been stuck in this room. It felt like years. Getting to see and possibly interact with other people? Sounded incredible and freeing. Yet, at the same time, a little scary. Would these people know what he’s been through? Would they look at the bruises and cuts and question him? He didn’t know.

But that was something to hold off on pondering for later. Without waiting another moment, Rhys was standing from the bed, his muscles protesting in aches that made him feel incredibly stiff. He ignored it as best he could and made his way into the shower. He was as quick yet as thorough as he could possibly be as he washed himself down, the events ahead making his movements all the swifter and filled with anxiousness.

In less than a handful of minutes, he was stepping out of the shower and back into what looked to be an empty room. A small moment of disappointment and sadness stabbed at his chest as he realized that Jack was gone, the door locked behind him once more. So maybe Jack really _was_ fucking with him about letting him out of this room. Maybe he was just going to be confined to this room forever.

Rhys shook his head. **No** , that couldn’t have been right. While Jack _would_ be the kind of person to get Rhys’ hopes up, there was just something about the way he’d gone about it that made Rhys believe he would be coming back. He had to rationalize that Jack was covered in blood and that he probably needed to shower and change himself before attending the meeting. Not to mention, Jack had been nothing but all too upfront about his intentions with Rhys in the past.

Taking a deep breath, Rhys moved over to the single drawer within the room, pulling open the top one to retrieve-- _they were gone._ His clothes, the ones that Jack had been nice enough to give him, they were completely gone. After a single moment, Rhys tried to compose his thoughts somewhat before reassuring himself that maybe, for _some_ reason, Jack had moved them.

So he took to looking through the rest of the drawers. Empty, empty, and, _yet still_ , empty. He had no clothes. Even the clothes Jack had ripped off of him earlier were gone. Suddenly, Rhys felt very, **_very_ ** exposed, and uncertainty began flooding through him like pins and needles in his veins. Did Jack expect him to go out there, into Helios, **_without_ ** clothing? Was that what he wanted out of this situation?

Rhys swallowed roughly, beginning to pace back and forth about the small room (which actually still had the light on; yet another indication, Rhys was distantly aware of, that Jack would be returning), his thoughts a frenzy. Old coworkers, men and women whom he’d never met alike, they would all see him without clothes. Bare. _Exposed_.

Interrupting his thoughts suddenly, the sound of the heavy door unlocking and swinging open caught his troubled attention once more, Jack slipping through all clean and in a fresh pair of clothes. He seemed to be gripping something within his right hand but Rhys couldn’t make it out.

“ _Aw_ , what’s the matter, Rhysie?” Jack asked in that cooing and sickeningly sweet tone as he approached. “Ya look a little distressed.”

Rhys bit down onto his tongue roughly, pondering for a split second whether he should actually say anything or not, before he was crossing his arms over his bare chest in an insecure manner, “My clothes. They’re all gone.”

Jack just grinned. It was a knowing grin. A grin that Rhys could read like an open book. It was all  _exactly_ as Rhys had suspected. _But why?_

“You always were an observant one,” Jack chuckled in a bouncy bout of laughter. Bringing his right hand up, Rhys was finally able to get a glimpse of just what he’d been holding onto. And now Rhys could see and understand fully. It was a black collar with intricate, yellow designs all throughout it, as boldly Hyperion-brand as the CEO himself. It looked just about as expensive as it probably was, knowing Jack and his exorbitant ways. “But don’t worry. I got ya covered.”

“You took my clothes?” Rhys found himself asking tentatively, growing more and more aware of just how exposed he was at this very moment.

Jack’s lips remained taut as he stepped closer, unclasping the collar away from itself as he went on, “Nah, the _clothes fairy_ took all your clothes. Of **_course_ ** I did, dum dum. Now c’mere so I can put this on you, it’ll look _great_.”

Already, Rhys could feel his body moving on its own towards Jack, his feet betraying his thoughts and feelings of uncertainty and distrust. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice in this, _did he?_ No. No he _absolutely_ didn’t. Jack had gotten close to killing him on several different accounts, leaving his neck damn near permanently bruised. Rhys had no doubts that Jack could really kill him if he tried to protest this. So all he could do was go along with this.

Swallowing roughly, Rhys squeezed his eyes shut as he stood before Jack, the feeling of the leather collar being wrapped around his throat and Jack’s arms brushing against his clean shoulders as he clasped it proper. The huff of a laugh from Jack’s mouth caused Rhys to jump slightly, his eyes opening then to see Jack’s grin was as wide as ever before.

“Lookin’ _perfect_ , baby,” Jack praised, a single, strong hand moving to grasp at Rhys’ jawline and chin, tilting his head up slightly. “Now we’re ready. Can’t be late to that meeting, now can we?”

 

***

 

To say the trip to the meeting room was humiliating would be an understatement. Rhys felt mortified beyond belief, his eyes downcast damn near the entire walk and his lips pursed in complete silence. He just wanted to disappear, wanted something more than a collar around his neck. He could feel the eyes of anyone that they passed on him, Jack acting as though nothing out of the ordinary was even happening. 

All Rhys could do to try and save at least _some_ of his dignity was to cover himself as best he could with his hands, but even then, there would be no saving himself from the pure embarrassment of the entire situation. It seemed that this was exactly what Jack had wanted anyhow. Because when Rhys asked him why he took all his clothes, Jack responded with that same line he always would.

_ “To break ya in, kiddo.” _

Rhys didn’t understand. He’d done everything Jack had wanted, did nothing to go against what he wanted, never even attempted to escape anymore. Was that just not enough? Or was this just supposed to be the proverbial cherry on top of this whole hostage situation? Rhys didn’t know. He didn’t understand. But there was nothing to be done about it anyway.

What made it all the worse was it seemed they were the last ones to come into the meeting room. Several men and women were already seated around the large table, all their attentions turning to Jack and Rhys as they made their entrance.

“Yeah, yeah, I know I’m late, whatever, you can blame _twinkle toes_ over here for taking his time,” Jack explained, thumb jabbing Rhys’ way. He flopped down into the seat at the end of the desk, each of his fingers and hands tapping at the armrests. All eyes within the room were suddenly on Rhys, he could just _feel_ all their gazes on him, but he didn’t dare look up as he moved to stand at Jack’s side.

Was this what Jack really, _truly_ wanted? For him to just come to this meeting, bare of all clothes, just to stand there? Soak up the embarrassment? At this point, it was all Rhys could even vaguely assume. Sometimes there was just no telling what was going on in Jack's mind or thought process.

The room was quiet enough to hear the smallest pin drop, the tension thick enough to slice through. It seemed to be making Jack impatient, his upper lip curling in a scowl before he was slamming his palm on the table before him. Everyone, including Rhys, jumped at the ensuing contact.

“ _Hey!_ Numbnuts!” Jack exclaimed. “What the hell ya starin’ at him for, don’t we got work to do? Or do you all wanna lose your jobs?”

The veiled threat seemed to spur the members within the room back on track, pulling most of their gazes off of Rhys, to which he was all too pleased. One of the men cleared their throats, beginning to go on about manufacturing numbers, quotes, and other things Rhys couldn’t possibly be bothered with at that moment.

“Sit down, kiddo,” Jack suddenly murmured, just loud enough for Rhys to hear but not loud enough to interrupt the man. 

Rhys suddenly looked over to see Jack was turning his chair slightly towards him, seemingly offering his lap as a seat to Rhys. The whole situation had turned Rhys’ brain to a mush of slowed responses, his mind having been frazzled by it all, but he slowly started to grasp the point before he was moving with tentative motions to settle onto Jack’s lap.

Moments later, Rhys caught a glimpse of one of Jack’s hands beginning to snake its way around to Rhys’ inner thigh, his breath hitching as large fingers began trailing upwards. Both excitement and dread began to fill within Rhys’ chest as he realized just what Jack was going to do. The room was still very much filled with people that Rhys didn’t even know, people that probably got the worst first impression of him, and Jack was wanting to touch him while they would be able to see exactly what was going on.

It shouldn’t have surprised Rhys in the slightest. And perhaps, _truly_ , it didn’t. But the feeling of knowing he could do _nothing_ to stop what Jack was doing was horrifying and mortifying all at once. Rhys did all he could to ignore Jack’s advances, pretending that he didn’t even notice them, and kept both his hands covering himself. And it seemed, for a while, that it was working. Jack seemed to be sticking to moving his fingers in small and, quite truthfully, soothing motions.

It was almost… _comforting_. And Rhys began to think that maybe he’d gotten the wrong idea from the beginning. That maybe Jack was trying to comfort him through this situation in his own fucked up sort of way.

That seemed to be the case as nearly half an hour had passed and Rhys had even felt himself becoming sleepy from the whole thing. Jack had stopped his motions here and there, but they would always start back up again, leaving Rhys wanting more from his captor. The touches were so inviting and so tempting. It grew harder and harder to resist the touches and what was once horror and embarrassment was quickly turning into want and need.

For a moment, Rhys had even begun to forget that there were all these people surrounding them. That all these strangers were silently judging, silently condemning the whole damn thing. And for that moment, Rhys began to move his hands away from himself, using his flesh fingers to reach forward, carefully, and grab Jack’s own hand.

With slow motions, he guided Jack’s hand up to his member, encouraging the older man to begin stroking him, to which Jack wasted no time in doing so. He gripped his soft length firmly, squeezing it and tempting it to begin swelling. Rhys inhaled deeply, the pleasurable motions such a welcome distraction from the entire situation. He could feel his length beginning to harden, tingling waves of titillating sensations traveling throughout his body and mind.

Suddenly, it was only Jack and him within that room, the droning of Jack’s employees seeming to take a backseat to just what Jack was doing with his warm hand. Rhys had no doubt that at least one or two people _had_ to have taken notice of just what was happening at that moment, but he was sure that neither of them particularly cared right then. Rhys knew _for sure_ Jack didn’t care; shit, he made Rhys come here in nothing but his birthday suit, it was obvious he didn’t care one bit what these people thought.

“Yeah, yeah, right okay, but what about our production values,” Jack suddenly barked, seemingly privy to a conversation that Rhys had missed out on. The swipes of his hand grew quicker, his tone growing more frustrated in the process, “I don’t see _shit_ about how you’re gonna improve those.”

“Um, Handsome Jack, sir, _if I may_ …” a woman suddenly spoke up, her voice uncertain and delicate. “Is this, um… A bad time? _Perhaps?_ ”

Oh, that was **_definitely_ ** a huge clue that they’d noticed just what was happening. But Rhys still didn’t dare look up, eyes squeezed shut and face glaringly red. His breaths grew deeper, much more greedy as Jack’s pumps grew more vigorous. He was sure that the moment he looked up, the moment he locked eyes with _anyone_ in this room, he would throw up and pass out right on Jack from the amount of pure embarrassment this caused.

Jack just scoffed, seeming to wave her words away with his impatient tone, “If you think this is a bad time, then you **_really_ ** don’t wanna see me get angry. And I _will_ get angry if you don’t just hurry it up and get to the point! What the hell am I paying you all for anyway if you won’t do your friggin’ jobs?!”

Once more, Rhys tried to zone everything out. The ensuing comments of reassurance from the meeting room members, the continuing of the meeting, even Jack’s own contributions to the meeting itself. It was easier to tune it all out with Jack’s unrelenting hand continuing to pump his cock without hesitation.

Pulling up his flesh hand, Rhys pressed it firmly against his lips, sharp breaths coming in and out his nose in quick huffs as he tried his best to stifle any and all moans. It was getting harder and harder, however, Jack really, _really_ seeming to try his damnedest at making Rhys scream.

The whole damn thing seemed to be turning into a blur. Rhys was lost in the high, unsure of time passing, unsure of _anything_ , really. All he knew was the icy hot sensation of his orgasm was crashing over him in a strong and relentless wave that seemed to last hours. He couldn’t stop the moan even if he wanted to, the room going quiet for just a moment, unbeknownst to Rhys at that moment. Jack gave a single glare and the silence ceased.

“Sit on the floor now,” Jack muttered into Rhys’ ear as he wiped his cum-soiled hand on Rhys’ thigh. “And _stay_ there.”

There was no questioning to be had here. Rhys did as Jack said, sliding down onto the cold and uninviting floor, his skin hot and sticky against its surface. It was a little jarring just how _cold_ the metallic floor was and just how much it hummed. It was something Rhys had never noticed. Then again, it wasn’t often he was naked, post-orgasm, on a Hyperion meeting room floor, clinging to Handsome Jack’s leg with the CEO’s fingers running along his scalp.

There was a first for everything.


End file.
